#me who went to winchester in June and mostly remembers it mixed up with all the rest of that trip through the lens of being absolutely

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

Excerpt (unecessarily dramatic monologue) from a potential Sir Orfeo retelling I will never write

Now there's a secret writers don't like to tell people often. We like to pretend to be mysterious, like we're caught up in The Art, like it controls us, and sometimes it feels like it does. But it's not true. So many scholars are obsessed with finding the "original version," who gives a shit about the original version? what matters is the story we have now, the story that's been told and is told and will be told, the story that's made and remade each time! These aren't dead cold things, they're breathing and breathed. We love to say there was only one way it could have ever gone but that's never true, that's what makes a tragedy tragic, that other choices could have been made, there are always a million other ways it could have gone, we just don't like to see them because it makes us feel better, because it's easier. Endings change all the time, for better or for worse, they're changing even now and yes, some are more fixed than others, more true, more immutable, more honest. But even these, sometimes, if you're really very lucky, you can reach out and twist into something else. Look at all the musicians who haven't died. Look at all the snakebites with poison sucked out of them. Look at the king who steps from the underworld and this time, his wife takes his hand behind him and he pulls her up and out and into the sunlight and a green so bright it should be illegal, into a city of stone and streams and roses, so many roses all pink and peach and gold and their velvet-springtime-hearthealed-ancient scent fills the air and is so beautiful even the most cynical bastard can't help but hope for a moment, for how can something smell like this without hope! And for the first time since he lost her she seems to truly awake.

#my writing #magpie babes this is for you! #I DID in fact listen to road to hell too many times and cry and write this in my notes app how funny you would ask #so Lindsay this is also for you! my hadestown mutual! #swearing #the writer of sir orfeo- orfeo was from winchester #me who went to winchester in June and mostly remembers it mixed up with all the rest of that trip through the lens of being absolutely #stunned and delighted by the roses in the south west #OOH HOOHOO

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

You and Me and You- Winchesters x OC Miliana

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A/N: Hi friends! I’m sorry I haven’t been updating anything in so long! Life has been crazy! Work was chaotic, I went out of town for my birthday last month, yes the one I was supposed to spend with the SPN cast :(, and I moved towns. I’m currently in a temporary living environment as my family searches for a new place! So yeah, I’m so sorry I haven’t been around. On top of that, the mobile app has been so freaking glitchy and it’s super annoying. I’m not on my laptop as much but it might be worth it to read more fics! I hope everyone is well and please, send feedback! 

Xxx Monique

Word Count: 2,420

Chapter 3- 1997- Miliana’s POV

It was just another day in high school for me. I didn’t think I was all that special, yet everyone wanted to be my friend. I tried to keep to myself since I wasn’t like any normal sixteen-year-old. No, I was raised by the infamous supernatural hunter, Bobby Singer. Yeah, that was a fun childhood. He was always in and out of the picture but he made sure to show me and tell me how much he loved me. It did help too when the Winchester Brothers would come to stay with me. They were good friends of mine but their Dad kind of went a bit crazy. He found one monumental case up in like Canada or somewhere, packed up all his things, including his sons, and off they went. It’s been six years since I’ve seen them. My Dad tried to stay local for all his hunts since he believed girls can’t and shouldn’t be hunters, and I guess that makes sense, considering a demon killed his wife, but still, I grew up in this life; I understand it. Jody and her friend Donna, who also is a Sheriff, would come by and bring some of the girls they would take in. Just to help them out, kinda like what Bobby did with me. They’d come around when my Dad had a case that wasn’t close to home and it’s not like I’m not old enough to stay at home alone; Dad just gets freaked out.

“So Miliana, you’re almost done with your sophomore year now. How’s that feel?” Jody asked me one day when she and Donna came to stay with me. They brought some girl, Jessica, to stay with us too but I didn’t like her.

“Oh, I’m excited but I’m also ready just to start junior year,” I admit.

“Why’s that, kiddo?” Donna asked.

“Well, there tend to be more ways to get involved in junior and senior year…” I trail off my thoughts, avoiding the real reason I couldn’t wait to be an upper-class woman.

“You mean there’s a prom once you become a junior?” Jody gave a knowing look.

Damn, she was good. Yeah freshmen and sophomores had dances but they were separated from the juniors and seniors and we didn’t get the same respect as they did.

“Well yeah,” I admit, sheepishly.

“That makes sense. Plus, you’ll feel older and feel like nothing is impossible.” Jody said, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

She was exactly right. I loved Jody like she was my Mother. She kind of was, given the fact that when it came to girl stuff, she would be the one I called. My Dad would just get all embarrassed and wouldn’t know what to do. You can probably figure out how my first period went; awkward.

“Hey, I have to get going. I’m on the planning committee for this year’s end-of-school-year dance, as they call it for us lower classmen. I have to meet before and after school so I won’t be home until late!” I yell as I’m grabbing my backpack and rushing out the door.

“Don’t forget to call before you leave school so I can alert your father! Jody called, as I scurried out the door.

“Yeah!” I yell in response as I run out the door and down the driveway to meet up with my friend, Sandy. She was already further in life than I was. Sandy came from a wealthy background; Daddy paid for everything. She had a boyfriend, was gifted a car on her sixteenth birthday, and was already planning to attend college. She would be turning seventeen the first week of June so she was already “older” than the other sophomores.

“Hi, Sandy!” I say as I throw my bag in the back and off, we went.

“So, you won’t believe what I heard!” She starts with the daily gossip that was floating around campus before we even get there! This was a routine for us. Sandy would come to pick me up and would tell me all the latest drama before we even get to school. She’s very into other people and for the most part, this school doesn’t do a lot in private.

“What’s up today, Sand?” I ask. I was the only one allowed to call her that. She hated being called Sand but for some reason, we’re friends and I can call her Sand. Normally, you wouldn’t think two girls like us would be friends, but I stood up for her when some other “popular girls” were getting in her face, so I threatened to give all of them high-calorie snack bars, and they all backed off. Oh, that’s another thing. Almost all the girls at this school are on a low carb, no fat diet. They mostly ate salads all the time and ate like rabbits, which is why Sandy and I became friends. We both have high metabolisms so we can eat like pigs and never gain any weight; all the other girls are jealous.  

“Jared Kingston and Carly Wright are having an extremely public break up on the quad; again.”

“Jesus, again? Isn’t this like the twelfth time they’ve broken up?” I ask. Jared and Carly were your typical power couple; Jared, football captain, Carly, head cheerleader.

“Thirteenth.” Sandy corrected me.

“Don’t they get tired of all the drama? And for the love of God, can they not be so public about it?”

“Well, you know how Carly is. She thinks MTV is going to walk in one day and do a reality show off her non-existent singing career.” Sandy and I laughed. You sing a solo in the seventh-grade talent show and suddenly, you’re a professional singer.

“Hell, if anyone is a singer, it’s you, Mills. Get it?” I just scoff at Sandy’s lame joke, playing off my last name being Singer, and before I knew it, we were at school.

We parked the car and began grabbing all our stuff when a real sleek classic black car drove up to the front of the school. Parked rather crooked, two young boys got out of the car and everything around me suddenly came to a halt. I knew that car. I didn’t get a chance to see them because there was a thrall of students surrounding the car. Jared and Carly’s break up long forgotten, as guys were impressed with the car and the girls were impressed with the boys who came from that car.

“Whoa, who do you think they are?” Sandy asked me, snapping me from my thoughts.

“No one worth our time. Come on.” I say, strutting off, but not before I got the feeling one person was staring at me. We got to homeroom Spanish and chatted away with all our friends before Mrs. Ramirez came into the room.

“Clase, cálmate (“class, settle down)!” Mrs. Ramirez had the philosophy to speak in Spanish and have us try and figure out what she saying until she ended up having to tell us anyway. Not sure this was a very useful way of teaching but this what she did.

“Buenos días clase, tenemos un nuevo alumno. Este es Sam Winchester.” (“Good morning class, we have a new student. This is Sam Winchester.”) My head snapped up; it couldn’t be.

“Saluda a Sam.” (Say hello to Sam.)

“Hi, Sam.” A very few students had bothered to say hello to the new student, who was ushered to sit down in the only open seat in the class; next to me.

“Hey, I’m Sam.” He says, sitting down, but not making eye contact with me. I didn’t know what to say so I just kept quiet, hoping he would remember me.

“Do you not…holy shit. Miliana?”

“Hi, Sam,” I say, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” He asks me in surprise.

“I should be asking you the same.”

“You never left Lawrence?” He whispers/asks.

I shake my head. “You know how my Dad felt about a girl being a hunter. He didn’t want me to have to see that life once I reached high school. Said I needed every normal high school experience I could get.”

“Well Miliana Singer, you are far from normal.” He said, causing heat to suddenly appear in my cheeks.

“Sra. Singer, Sr. Winchester, ¿tiene algo que quiera compartir con el resto de la clase? (Ms. Singer, Mr. Winchester, do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?).”

“No Sra. Ramirez (No Mrs. Ramirez)” We both said in unison, our attention now on the lesson.

“¡Bien, entonces ciérralo! (Good, then zip it!)” As the rest of the class went on, I couldn’t help but steal glances from Sam. He was exactly how I remember him but he grew! He must’ve hit a growth spurt somewhere in those six years since I saw him last because he’s a freaking giant now. His hair is longer now too. He occasionally would flip it out of his eyes and it would send a whiff of his cologne and his natural “Sammy scent” as Dean used to call it, my way. His eyes were a mix of green and brown, like the color of the trees right before they begin to change color for the fall. And his smile was a big and bright and contagious as ever.

“Señorita Singer, ¿le gustaría resumir la Constitución española? (Miss Singer, would you like to summarize the Spanish Constitution?).

“Um…” I trail off but a voice spoke up.

“España es una monarquía y trabajan para mostrar la importancia de la libertad, la justicia, la igualdad y el pluralismo politico. (Spain is a monarchy and they work to show the importance of freedom, justice, equality, and political pluralism.)” Sam responded in perfect Spanish, to which everyone in the room took notice of.

“Muy Bueno señor Winchester. (Very good, Mr. Winchester). To which Sam just winked at me. Holy crap, what was happening here? How has he gotten more attractive all these later? And what is he doing in tenth? Wasn’t he supposed to be a freshman? He’s fifteen after all! I don’t know what his game is but I’m going to figure it out and figure out why he’s back in Lawrence. He got out! Why would anyone want to come back here?

The bell rang, indicating the end of the class and the prime time to catch up with Sam. However, with him being so tall, once he grabbed his backpack, he was out the door in a flash.

“This boy!” I said in my head. Keeping up with him was going to be a struggle considering I’m only 5’6. Rushing out the class, I zig-zag through the crowded halls, looking for that floppy head of hair. Finally, on almost the opposite side of campus, there he was. He was lucky to have a top locker but I guess because he’s so big, it makes sense.

“Sam!” I yell, just a few feet away, but quickly catching up.

“Millie, hey.” He said smiling that perfect smile but using my nickname; the only my closest friends and family can call me. It was weird hearing him say it since he feels like a stranger now.

“Miliana,” I tell him.

“What?” He looked a bit stunned that I corrected him.

“It’s Miliana. Only my closest friends and family get to call me Millie and since you left…” I instantly regretted it when the words fell off my lips but there it was.

“Ah yeah, I guess I kind of deserve that, especially since we didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Sam said, slowly nodded his head as he understood why I was hostile.

“Yeah, no offense but your Dad is kind of…” I say but he interrupts me.

“A douche? Yeah, I know.” Sam said, knowing all too well how I felt about how his Dad just ripped him away from me. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, surprised to see you here. Actually, why are you back in Lawrence?”

“Well Dad figured to move closer to home for a while but Dean still loves the hunter life so he and my Dad go out on a lot of cases.”

“Are you left alone a lot?”

“Oh yeah, but I’m going to living close to your Dad. There’s a small little house that is just up the road from where you guys are so I figured I’d stay there.”

“So, you’ll be around more often?” I tried to hide my hopefulness but I knew Sam; he could tell.

“I hope to, at least until graduation.” He grinned at me and my heart fluttered. Stop it, Miliana.

“By the way, how are you a sophomore? You’re fifteen!”

“Oh that. Well, I’m pretty advanced for my age so they set me up as a sophomore.”

“I’d say you are pretty advanced; you speak Spanish fluently!” I comment, still being stunned that he spoke so effortlessly. “Why are you taking a Spanish class if you’re that fluent?”

“Eh, I needed it for credit so I thought it would be the easiest A I could come by. Plus, I have separate assignments than the rest of the class.”

“What?”

“I’m an in-class tutor. When Mrs. Ramirez can’t tutor students in need of some extra attention, she looks to me. Turns out, a lot of the class is struggling so we made a deal; I tutor and learn all her lessons, I get the credit.”

Okay, Sam was so much cooler than I remember him being. He is so sweet and caring and smart and, oh no, I can’t be falling for him. No way, no! We had one little incident when we were kids but that was it; we were kids! We didn’t know what love or crushes were then. I cannot be falling for my childhood friend.

“You good there, Miliana?” Sam said, bringing out me of my thoughts again.

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? You looked like you were thinking about me shirtless or something.”

That son of a bitch! “What? Pssst. You wish Winchester!”

Sam just chuckled and shook his head but grabbed some more books out of his locker and set them in his bag, patted me on the shoulder, and bid me farewell. Shit, I’m so screwed.

 (Reference for the Spanish Constitution because I don’t plagiarize: Smith, Carr, Spain. Encyclopedia Britannica. Encyclopedia Britannica Inc. 2020 16 August. 2020 18 August. https://www.britannica.com/place/Spain)

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#Sam Winchester #sam #sam girls #sam fanfiction #sam fic #Sam fluff